


thinking of you

by notmykink



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Not Actually Unrequited Love, slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmykink/pseuds/notmykink
Summary: Tooru knows there’s nothing wrong with jerking off or being sexually frustrated, in fact it’s pretty much expected for a guy his age. But it doesn’t really help with his guilt over his best friend being the single object of his fantasies.





	thinking of you

**Author's Note:**

> ye i wrote another thing the day after i finished that other thing. once again unedited, not read through, and once again i apologise.  
> disclaimer: they dont get together in this fic. its pre-rl, but not unrequited, despite what tooru thinks.
> 
> update: [here's](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11024127) the sequel

In a certain light, at a certain angle, with just the right amount of sweat covering his skin, Iwaizumi Hajime _glows._ Tooru would argue with anyone that disagreed, but even if he didn’t want to admit it, most people _did_ agree with Tooru. So instead, Tooru spent his time just looking at him, taking in the view, thinking of different ways to do it with him.

Tooru doesn’t know much about having sex with another guy, not much more than what he’s been reading online, but i doesn’t keep him from _imagining_ it anyway. It’s not like it’s going to happen for real anyway. He tries not to think of Hajime in that way _too_ much while in school or at practice, because it’s not the most practical time or place to pop a boner, but even when he’s home and alone, he can’t seem to escape the thought of Hajime, and while he isn’t unused to thinking of his best friend through most of his life, thinking of him in _that_ way is new, different, and very frustrating.

The weather is getting hotter lately, and Tooru kicks off his duvet, scratching at his crotch as he thinks back to how Hajime had looked during practice, so sweaty his t-shirt was clinging to his chest in a way that really shouldn’t be sexy, but makes the blood rush to Tooru’s abdomen within seconds. He reaches down to rub at the front of his sweatpants, but the friction only makes it worse and he groans, figuring that he might as well let off some steam, release some of his pent-up tension. He starts rubbing at his sweatpants again, his cock stirring underneath the fabric, and it’s nowhere near enough. Impatiently, he presses the sweatpants down to his knees, then his boxers, noting the already damp spot seeping through the thin fabric of his boxers, darkening it further. He rubs at his now free cock, biting his lip to keep from making more sounds, but he needs _more_ and he’s too impatient, has too much tension built up inside to take it slow today.

He reaches out for the tube of cream standing on his nightstand, pouring just a bit out onto the tips of his pointer and middle finger before putting it back.

The cream is one Hajime had bought for him some time ago because, according to him, Tooru doesn’t take properly care of his skin. For some reason, Hajime is more intent on keeping his hands soft than Tooru himself, but Tooru is pretty sure that Hajime probably hadn't bought it for him with Tooru using it to masturbate in mind.

Tooru presses his fingers down onto his already hardening cock, wiping the cream off his fingers onto it, then spreading it out more evenly with his whole hand as he grabs the shaft properly, biting his lower lip.

Tooru knows there’s nothing wrong with jerking off or being sexually frustrated, in fact it’s pretty much expected for a guy his age. But it doesn’t really help with his guilt over his best friend being the single object of his fantasies.

He starts out slowly, pumping at his now fully erect cock with slow, long movements as he brings back the mental image of Hajime earlier that day, face shiny and flushed, covered in sweat, and he wonders how close to that Hajime’s post-sex afterglow would look.

Tooru brings his other hand to his mouth, pressing two fingers inside past his teeth, pressing down on his tongue, trying to wet them as he remembers how Hajime had looked at lunch, innocently licking his fingers, sucking at the tip of his thumb after having eaten his onigiri, always ignoring the fact that the nori covering almost half of it is there exactly for the purpose of not making your fingers sticky. Tooru’s mouth had gotten dry at the sight, and if it wasn’t for Makki pulling Oikawa out of his trance instantly, he probably would’ve popped a boner right there too.

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop, closing his eyes and imagining Hajime watching him, just as turned on as Tooru gets just by thinking of Hajime. Tooru spreads his legs and slides his hand down beneath his cock that his other hand is tending to, instead focusing on the sensitive skin underneath his balls, sliding his wet finger over his entrance, teasing it. The touch tickles slightly, sending bursts of electricity through his body, but Tooru’s not _really_ feeling it today, so he pulls his hand back again, squeezing his eyes shut again.

He thinks about Hajime's hips, how slender they are despite his wider build and broader shoulders, how Tooru's hands would be big enough to grip his hips properly, holding him down as he fucks Hajime into the mattress. He imagines the sounds Hajime would make, tiny whimpers and gasps, so unlike the grunts and slightly raspy groans when spiking a ball or stretching during practice - the kind of sounds only Tooru could make him do, in Tooru’s mind, that only Tooru will bear witness to.

He tightens his hold around his cock, pumping it harder as he accidentally lets out a whimper himself and he imagines Hajime underneath him again, red and flushed, staring up at him with watery, loving eyes as Tooru buries himself inside him to the hilt.

Tooru thrusts into his hand, grinding his teeth as he feels himself getting closer to coming, and he rolls to the side, upping the tempo and getting more and more desperate, more invested the fantasy of Hajime being there, underneath him, letting Tooru fuck him, until his phone starts vibrating next to his head.

For a second, Tooru freezes, but he reaches out for it out of instinct, freezing again when he sees Hajime’s name on the display. He reaches down, grabs at the hilt of his cock before accepting the call and pressing it to his ear.

“ _Oikawa_?” Hajime says after a second of silence, and Tooru remembers that normally he greets first, no matter which one of them is the one calling.

“Yes?” he manages to say, and his voice isn’t as compromised as expected. He just sounds a bit out of breath.

“ _My mom told me to ask you if you wanted to join us at a dinner at my aunt’s place on Saturday, and—what are you doing?_ ” Hajime begins to ask, but stops midway, sounding confused. Tooru bites his lip, hoping Hajime hadn’t heard his ragged breathing, continuing to touch himself.

“I, uh, I have to go,” Tooru says, unable to hold back from making a noise that sounds too much like a whimper even to him, too aware that he’s talking to Hajime while _touching himself_. And even worse, touching himself while thinking of Hajime.

“ _Oh—uh, okay,”_ Hajime replies on the other side, and he sounds even more puzzled than before. Tooru wants to reassure him and laugh at the same time.

Instead, he panics. “Call you later,” he says quickly, pulling the phone away from his ear and ending the call, throwing the phone to the side and continuing to jerk off even more furiously than before, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” he hisses, and even without his duvet or sweatpants on he’s feeling so fucking _hot_ , the sweat making his skin sticky and creating even more friction when he moves, and he _just talked to Hajime while jerking off to the thought of fucking him,_ and Tooru feels so fucking dirty, but _fuck_ , he’s never been more turned on, felt closer to the very unrealistic fantasy of actually _doing it_ with Hajime, and while being on the phone with him while jerking off in secret isn’t exactly anywhere close, it’s only more proof of how fucking gone and detached from reality he usually is. He prays that Hajime didn’t realise what he was doing while calling, but a part of him also _wants_ Hajime to know, wants Hajime to think of him doing it, wants Hajime to think of _them_ doing it.

Tooru comes, suddenly and overwhelmingly, like a wave of pleasure washing over him, making his cock pulse and his toes curl into the fabric covering his duvet as if attempting to grab at it, before the pleasure pulls back, emptying him as hot come spreads over his hand and cock. For a little while, his mind is blank and his vision is spotted with tiny black dots as he regains his breath. Then, he returns to reality, and he feels sticky, sweaty, and way too hot.

He grimaces, reaching over for a tissue on the nightstand, and this part is what he hates the most. The relief only lasts for a moment before the shame takes over, making him feel dirty ( _not just figuratively_ , he thinks as he reaches for _another_ tissue) and horrible for putting his friend in that situation, now even more than ever, yet today the feeling is easier to push away and ignore than ever. Instead, he keeps rewinding the memory of Hajime’s voice on that call, how he sounded while Tooru was touching himself, wondering if he had any idea what was happening or what he’d think if he did. Tooru buries his head in his pillow again, pulling his boxers up again. He’s not going to jerk off two consecutive times simply because of a phone call that happened at an unlucky time. Instead, he goes to the bathroom and forces himself to take a cold shower.

 

The next day, they go to school together as always and Hajime doesn’t bring up the call until the last moment before they separate for their respective classes.“Hey, what was up with your call last night? You sounded kind of weird,” he says, looking at Tooru with a concerned frown, his hand on Tooru’s shoulder. Tooru doesn’t have it in him to hold back the laughter, and he isn’t sure if it comes out as bitter or embarrassed.

“Nothing, Iwa-chan, I’m just fine,” he says, shaking off Hajime’s hand and giving him his most winning smile. He has to pinch himself to keep from getting hard in class just from thinking of the memory, and that’s saying something - his first class that day is _math_ and Tooru really hates hormones. He doesn’t hate Hajime, though, not at all, and that seems to be the root of his problem. Tooru is fucked. Or, he _wishes_ he was.

**Author's Note:**

> i always wanted to write a solo session fic/dramatic jerking off thinking of ur secret crush that u think is unrequited but i somehow managed to not use any of the details ive wanted to put in?? i guess i have some stuff for the sequel then (even tho the sequel will be slightly different, tooru being the one calling hajime this time _while_ jerking off lmao)
> 
> update: [sequel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11024127)


End file.
